Peeta's Perspective
by random221
Summary: My attempt to write The Hunger Games from Peeta's perspective.
1. Chapter 1

**I know there are other fanfics written from Peeta's perspective but I wanted to try it out for myself. This is my first attempt at fanfiction so I apologize if it isn't good. I realize this chapter is short but I would like to get some feedback before I write anymore. Also, I'm fairly certain there is a good amount of spelling errors and what not so if you want to point those out it would be greatly appreciated :) **

With a single blow the candle on my night stand goes out and I am in total darkness. My eyes strain to find any familiar shape, just the reassurance of knowing I'm still safe and warm in my room. For now anyways.

The night is restless and I can't stop running over the possible outcomes of tomorrows afternoon over in my head. Will it be someone I know? Will I be chosen? What will I do if I am chosen? When will this madness stop? But I already know the answer to that one. Never.

My stomach growls violently and because I can't sleep anyways I stumble towards the window. The view is breathtaking and despite all the ugliness that has happened and all the damage that has been done, I can't help but think it's beautiful, District 12 I mean.

A nagging voice in the back of my head tells me I should at least attempt to get some rest; it will be an emotional day tomorrow for everyone no matter who gets chosen. I linger a while at the window and then amble back to my bed and drift off into oblivion.

* * *

My first thoughts as I wake up? The house is on fire! That's obviously not the case as I sit up and get a better whiff. The smell is something I've grown up with, though I rarely come across it because burning bread results in a major beating from mum. Wasting a good batch of bread is serious business. So it is with aching curiosity that I wander down the stairs on to the main level of our house.

Because we live in town we are a lot luckier than most citizens of District 12, which would explain why we have a two level home, but not much is different. Our belly's still growl and our living conditions aren't that much better than those in the seam.

My father is desperately trying to save a loaf of the burnt bread but I can tell that it's no use. When he sees that I'm awake and watching him he tosses me the damaged loaf of bread, gives me the seldom seen look of authority and orders me to get rid of it as soon as physically possible. He knows the consequences for his actions and surely he hopes to get away with it.

Today is the reaping, so I do as I'm told without complaint. If I were to be chosen for the Hunger Games, I wouldn't want my father's last memories of me to be of my childish antics. As I tear up the bread and toss it into the pig's trough I feel a sense of déjà vu. Before my thoughts can drift involuntarily to the girl with the starved eyes, I drop the last chunk into the trough and hurry inside.

"Would you mind telling me exactly how you managed to burn a perfectly good loaf of bread?" I ask my father.

He glances towards the opposite counter than the one he is working at and I see a scrawny scrap of meat.

I nod. He must have been distracted while trading with Gale. It wasn't Katniss though, she would have shot it in the eye.

Don't think about her, you've spent too long thinking about her. Get over it. I really need to finish the cakes.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**I decided to write another chapter because it's fun to write from Peeta's perspective :) I don't really know the rule for how long chapters should be, but I felt that this should be a continuation of the first chapter since it wasn't very long. Thanks for the nice thoughts on the last chapter, I appreciate it. If you have any recommendations for this chapter that would be great.**

The reaping begins at two o'clock in the square. Everyone is required to attend no matter what or you can expect a very harsh punishment. Our bakery closes up early on the day of the reaping which gives me time to get ready, if I get chosen as a tribute I don't want to look like a savage.

On my bed lies a pair of beige slacks and a black button up shirt just cleaned for today's events. Maybe my mother isn't a witch after all, or maybe she did it to make herself look good. Whatever the reason for her uncharacteristic actions, I now have clean clothing to wear to the square.

My family and I leave the house shortly before one; the square will be crowded with people signing in. Before we part ways my father gives my brother and I a hug and my mother gives us pats on the back, typical. It wouldn't kill her to at least give me a hug. She hates me, I'm sure of it and it's too bad that the hate is mutual. I've never much cared for her growing up; it was my father I looked up to.

Across the square there is a roped off area for possible tributes. I make my way to the other side with Eli. He's been my best friend for as long as I can remember.

"Are you nervous?" he asks me solemnly. Of course.

"Are you mental? Obviously I'm nervous" I reply with a hint of annoyance seeping through my voice.

"Reyne will be put in the reaping this year, I'm really afraid he's going to be chosen" he tells me. I never even noticed that Eli's brother has been behind us the whole time. His face has a nice green tinge and his eyes are red. There is no doubt in my mind that Reyne is probably more afraid then Eli.

I wish more than anything I can offer Eli reassuring words, but he knows better than that so we walk the rest of the way in silence. Before Reyne goes to join the other twelve year olds I stop him.

"Listen here, the chances of you being chosen are very slim" I tell him, although I know that it isn't impossible for him to be picked "You should try to relax a little, I'm more afraid of you puking all over my nice clean shirt than I am of getting chosen as a tribute!" I joke, even though I'm in no joking mood. I even manage a grin. It work's, he let's out a little giggle but you can still see the fear in his eyes.

Eli and I retreat to our area crowded with sixteen's and patiently wait for the ceremony to begin. I watch with amusement as the mayor and Effie Trinket, the woman from the capitol who reads out the names, fret over the empty chair that sits on the stage. The reaping is scheduled to start at two and when the clock to the justice building signals that it is time to begin, there is no time for them to find the occupant who should be sitting in the chair.

The mayor makes his way to the podium and recites the same story we've heard every year at this time, not to mention all the times we've had to listen to it at school. It's practically been ingrained in my head. He then continues by reading the list of previous victors. The third chair where our only surviving victor should be sitting is currently empty, but not for long.

Haymitch Abernathy stumbles on stage and it's apparent that he's had one too many to drink. You can see the panic quite clearly on the mayor's face as Haymitch basically attacks Effie, and I almost feel bad for the guy, the mayor I mean.

We are quickly introduced to Effie at this point and she makes her way to the podium as if the previous episode didn't just happen. She feeds us the usual "Happy Hunger Games!" line and I desperately want to punch her in the face. It's one thing to have to fight until death on camera, that's bad enough as it is, but there is no way anyone from District 12 will do it with a smile on their face.

After her short speech she makes her way over to the glass ball that holds the girls' slips. You can feel the tension across the square; no one dares make a sound as she pulls her hand out of the ball with a slip. She returns to the podium and the only sound that can be heard is her footsteps across the stage. She clears her throat, the wait is killing me, and reads the name out loud.

"Primrose Everdeen!" she nearly shouts into the microphone and she even has the nerve to smile. I look around me at the uneasy faces of spectators in the crowd. Nobody likes it one twelve year olds are chosen. I wonder what my face looks like right about now. I'm devastated because I know her, not personally but I know who she is and she doesn't deserve this fate.

There is movement from behind me as the small girl slowly makes her way to the stage, she is terrified. It is silent but suddenly I hear someone shouting her name. There is more movement but this time it is coming from the area I am standing in. The shouter brushes past me as she makes her way to the stage.

"I volunteer!" she shouts. "I volunteer as a tribute.

My heart sinks. Katniss Everdeen. What can I say about Katniss Everdeen? Everything. She's the girl who hunts in the woods and doesn't care about the consequences, the one who puts food on the table for her family, the girl with the starved eyes, the girl being sentenced to death.

I promised myself I would stop thinking about her, but this moment seems like the perfect opportunity to break that promise. There was no way I would ever be on talking terms with Katniss Everdeen, I always held out hope though. It will never happen now.

She is on stage now after a short struggle with her sister. Her face is drained of colour and she is trying her hardest not to cry. More than anything I want to comfort her but that's impossible given the current situation, not to mention I'm a coward.

"What's your name?" Effie asks her.

"Katniss Everdeen" she replies, her voice is thick with pain.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" She exclaims. There is no concealing her excitement for having a district with some decent action.

Not one person claps, not one person makes a sound. There are a lot of people who know Katniss, nobody wants to see her go. I watch as one by one people touch their three middle fingers to their lips and hold it out to her. I join in.

Haymitch begins another short episode that involves him falling of the stage, I direct my attention to Katniss. Her eyes are glazed over. She has managed to hold it together fairly well. I can't say I'd be able to do the same. At some point Effie Trinket begins talking again but I'm not paying attention.

"Peeta Mellark!"

My name echoes around the square and I snap out of my reverie. I must say I'm shocked. I most definitely was not expecting this. I make my way to the stage and stand beside Katniss. Are you happy now Peeta? You'll actually get to talk to her now! Oh, but you'll also have to end her life. This is what I get for wanting to get to know her.

It feels like we've been standing on the stage forever as the mayor goes through the Treaty of Treason. He then motions for us to shake hands. My heart thumps unevenly and she places her hand in mine. They are surprisingly soft.

Stop it Peeta. You're going to make everything more difficult than it has to be.


End file.
